Mistress Margery, round the corner. Heed-priate accompaniment. Whilst the knights less of the orders of the marshals and the entreaties of Master Stuckley, he dashed at once into the lists, doffed his bonnet to the officers in courtly style, then quietly commenced his march up and down, like a sentinel on duty; he even presumed to lift the hangings of the tents, to see, as he observed, that all was right. In vain Master Stuckley expostulated, and intreated to be allowed to dismount if Nick did not conduct himself with greater propriety; in vain the marshals shouted and threatened; Sherring replied not, merely making some trivial remark or meteorological observation. But presently he raised himself in his saddle, crying out that the knights were coming. Away went the marshals and the music sounded; then Nick pleasantly informed the crowd that so was Yule-tide. Back came the officers, panting with fatigue and wrath; yet whilst they were in the midst of their denunciations, Nick gave a shout of "Cut purse, cut purse," that seemed as though it came from the Cow Cross. Again the officers departed, soon returning; and, to the horror of Master Stuckley, making towards him and Nick with threatening gestures. Yet, hark! the trumpets clangour forth, the knights approach, Nick's frolic is forgotten, and in stately march the chivalric parade comes on. First, some ten or twelve men, carrying small silver maces, and mounted on stately white chargers, followed by a party of halberdiers, a file of hackbuttmen, and a body of demilancers. Then came twelve puissant chevaliers, clad in their coats of mail and steel casques, with the beavers up, and with hugefalchions buckled by their sides, attended by their banner bearers and squires, bearing lance and shield, and followed by heralds in rich tabards, and pursuivants; then a number of arquebusiers, and escorted by a vast number of henchmen, in scarlet doublets worked with gold. Thus the stately march came on with waying bonnets, drums and trumpets making the air resound the harmony. Shouts arose from every side; the band at the northern extremity of the lists commenced the martial music, to which the clattering of the arms and the jingling of spurs formed no inappro entered the jousting-ground thus proudly from the Barbican, another, ay, and a fairer cavalcade entered it from the other extremity -that of the demoiselles who, by their presence, graced the tilts. They were escorted by a company of noble gentlemen, in dresses of cloth of gold; and many a lusty shout arose from the people as the galaxy of beauty passed along to the pavilion, from thence to view the tourney. And now Sir Henry Cuthbert, with a file of hackbuttmen, arrived on the ground, for the purpose of making all due preparation for the joustings; the lists were cleared from intruders, and the soldiers placed at the barriers, and the lances examined. Then there advanced a herald-at-arms, mounted on a stately courser, and, as was the wont in days of yore, proclaimed the tourney. The clarions sounded, and the knights advanced, each on his barbed steed, each with his burgonet laced, and in his hand his lance of ash, faced around with plates of steel. Right gallantly they paced along past the pavilions where the dainty demoiselles were seated. Grace, beauty, and nobility were there; yet none outshone fair Mistress Keble. Ou went the knights—valiant men, I trow, were they-with Sir Michael de la Pole and Quartermaine in company; thrice round the lists they passed, then divided into two companies, and passing to either end of the lists, they place their lances in rest, and prepare for the encounter. Again the trumpet clangours forth in martial strain, and on dash the knights. The bright armour gleamed in the sunlight, yet not a sound was heard save that of the horses' hoofs striking the ground in their onward flight: not a shout, not a sound, not a cry: yet on they dash with the speed of thought, and meet in the midst of their furious course with a terrible crash. Three knights were, by the violence of the shock, unhorsed, and, in their iron sheaths, lay senseless in the lists. Lustily the people's shouts mingle with the shrill fanfares of trumpets and the dash of warlike instruments; and joyfully the band in grotesque habits burst forth once more in melody, whilst the squires enter, and bear away the fallen knights to the Bartholomew Priory.* * Founded by the king's minstrel, in 1102. It is needless here to relate the number of from his hand, and he stood unarmed before heads and lances broken on that memorable his foe. But seizing a huge battle-axe, he day, or to tell how Sir Richard Bailey knocked sprang towards Quartermaine, who, considerout the eye of Sir Thomas Rosand. But ing the unarming of his opponent to have when the joustings had near concluded, two decided the contest, stood open to attack; knights entered the lists to run a tilt at the whilst the clarions burst forth in triumphant instigation of Sir Henry Keble, though what strains, and the populace shouted lustily. his object was no one knew save he and the two High in the air the ponderous axe was raised chevaliers," Ambrose Quartermaine, and Sir by the Spanish knight, descending with a Michael de la Pole. heavy blow on the casque of Master Quartermaine. Again the axe was raised; but the people, the knights, and marshals, beholding this foul and unchivalric act, came rushing tumultuously forward. 'Runagate knave!" cried one; "Recreant!" shouted Henry Cuthbert; and on they came toward the struggling knights; for the duel had recommenced in terrible earnest. Some of the ladies were carried fainting from the pavilion; the officers put a forcible end to the struggle. The excitement was intense, and it was increased by the moody bearing of the Spanish knight, who refused all overtures for the time being at reconciliation, roughly refused the profferred civility of Sir Henry Keble, gloomily mounted his horse, and rode, with his squire, from the field, amid the silence of the crowd. Before commencing the combat, the two knights rode round the lists to the pavilion; then bending lowly down, till the plumes of their burgonets touched the saddle-bows of their barbed steeds; then receiving the lances and shields from their esquires, prepared for the encounter. The clarions sounded, and the knights spurred on. The lance of Michael splintered on the casque of Quartermaine, whilst that of Ambrose broke upon the corslet of Michael. To either end of the lists the knights returned; then with fresh weapons once more dashed onward to the fray. They met in the centre of the field; the lances shivered asunder; but so violent was the concussion that the Spanish knight was near being unhorsed. His charger reared; the people shouted. In an instant Michael sprang to the ground. His example was followed by Quartermaine. Each drew forth his keen and trusty falchion; and manfully they bestirred themselves, and furiously waged the combat. The fiery sparks flashed from the steel burgonets as from the anvil of a smith; but after some time the weapon of Michael was dashed Thus, what had been designed for a day's pastime, turned out disastrously. The chief company, with Quartermaine, took their departure; the people dispersed, and the artiticers were soon busy in removing all traces of the chivalric play that had gathered all London in Smithfield. GONE TO REST. OUR loved ones are no more: and Sorrow sits Who loved us fondly, more than books be- Yea, more than fame! Give me a memory sweet Love, tenderness, and not a laurel wreath! With hope immortal, and rememb'ring say- DWELLERS IN THE DEEP. BY GEORGE ST. CLAIR, F.G.S., ETC. CHAPTER II.--FISHES (Class PISCES). ALTHOUGH by people altogether unedu-marine creatures as it is to the terrestrial ani cated every animal inhabiting the water is regarded as a fish, naturalists confine the term to creatures possessing backbones, moving by fins, breathing by gills, and not by lungs, and possessing a single instead of a double heart, circulating cold instead of warm blood. This excludes on the one hand all animals commonly called shell-fish, which have no internal skeleton; and on the other hand shuts out whales, dolphins, porpoises, &c., which breathe by lungs, have a double heart, are warm-blooded, and are therefore with propriety put into the class mammalia. But there are still left to us a whole world of true fishes to discourse about, modern science having succeeded in describing and picturing more than eight thousand different kinds, and ascertained the habits and instincts of some of them. Fishes are exclusively aquatic, and all the particulars of their structure indicate an adaptation to this mode of existence. They have a large head, no distinct neck, usually a spindleshaped body, tapering gradually towards the tail; and their surface is generally smooth, without any irregularities which might impede their motions. In its general form the body is rounded, or slightly compressed at the sides; sometimes the flattening proceeds to a much greater extent, so that the animal presents the appearance of a broad band or oval disc. The skeleton of fishes is usually bony, but in many cases, as in the ray and the shark, it remains in the gristly state, and in certain of the lampreys is even less solid. mals; and they abstract it from the water The very fishes would sooner die The fact is that their delicate breathing mem- Fishes have cold blood; that is to say, the blood does not in general rise appreciably above the temperature of the water in which they swim. The blood is invariably red, and the globules have an elliptical form, and are of considerable dimensions. The heart consists of one auricle and one ventricle, which receive the blood from the veins, and send it to the gills; in the gills it is renewed by absorbing oxygen, and thence it is circulated through the body in arteries. The life of a fish is passed almost entirely in seeking its subsistence, and in flying from its enemies. It possesses external senses, but they appear to give it only a few obtuse impressions, and its faculties are more or less No fishes possess true lungs, but accomplish their breathing by means of organs called gills, which consist ordinarily of many rows of thin membranous plates hung on slender arches of bone. These organs are placed on each side of the head, and are usually protected by a great bony plate (the gill-cover) made up of several pieces. The water to be breathed enters into the mouth, and by a movement of swal-limited. It shows no industry, nor any relowing is made to reach the gills, after bathing markable instinct; its brain is very slightly the surface of which it escapes at the hind developed, and its organs of sense are very immargin of the gill-cover. We see, in fact, perfect. Having a hard covering and posthe animal alternately opening the mouth and sessing no fingers adapted to take hold of raising its operculum (gill-cover). Though objects, it is only by means of their lips that the whole breathing apparatus of a fish is they can exercise the sense of touch. The comprised in a small compass, its surface, if sense of taste must also be nearly absent, since fully extended, would occupy a very consider- their tongue is scarcely movable, and is not able space; that of the common skate, for in-fleshy. The apparatus for smelling is of a stance, being equal to the surface of the human body. But after all, it is not water that fishes breathe, but the air which water contains. Oxygen-one of the gases composing atmospheric air-is as necessary to fishes and other much more complicated structure, but is not arranged so as to allow either air or the water serving for respiration to pass through it. The ear is nearly always placed completely within the bones of the head, and in general we see nothing that can be compared to the external ear. Lastly, the eyes are very large, and nearly immovable, and have neither true eyelids nor lachrymal apparatus. Instead of arms and legs, fishes mostly possess two pairs of fins placed on the lower surface of the body, while they have in addition a variable number of single or median fins (called median because situated on the middle line of the body). By the aid of these, and especially by side-to-side strokes of the tail, locomotion is effected, and at such a rate sometimes as would astonish you. We are told that the salmon, for example, advances sometimes with a rapidity of twenty-six feet in a second, and travels in one hour twenty to twenty-five miles. Every part of the body seems exerted in this dispatch: the fins, the tail, and the motion of the whole back-bone assist progression; and it is to this admirable flexibility of body, which mocks the efforts of art, that fishes owe the astonishing rapidity of their movements. Of for the place where these birds were nume- Before contributing to human sustenance, all these millions must be supplied with food themselves, and we have just intimated that they prey on one another, according to a general law of nature. The law itself, though we should not be disposed at first to consider it as "very good," has been illustrated and justified in Professor Hitchcock's "Religion of Geology." Leaving the religious bearing of the subject, we are sorry for the morality of the fishes themselves that they are sometimes guilty of cannibalism. Mr. Yarrell took from the As it is necessary not only to have a power of progression, but also the ability to rise or fall in the water, most fishes are provided with an air-bladder, or swim-bladder, sometimes familiarly known by the name of the sound. Everybody must have noticed near the backbone of the herring and other fishes a shining pearly-looking membrane, almost enveloped by the row or milt of the animal. This is the organ in question; when it is contracted, as it may be at the will of its possessor, the bulk of the body is diminished, its weight in proportion to the water is increased, and the fish swims easily at a greater depth. On relaxing the tension of the muscles the reservoir again expands, and the fish is brought nearer to the surface. Those fishes that are destined to live at the bottom of the sea, or to conceal them-stomach of a conger eel three common dabs selves in the mud, such as eels and skates, have either no air-bladder, or a very small one, for the sufficient reason that they do not need it, and nature's favours are not generally given where there is no disposition to use them. Fishes, like all other vertebrata (animals with back-bones), have the sexes separate; the males being generally distinguished by having the head and gills more developed, and the females by having the body deeper and fuller. With a few exceptions, more apparent than real, the young are produced from eggs, which being deposited at regular periods are commonly called spawn. The fertility of fish is truly amazing. The roe of a cod has been computed to contain six or even nine millions of eggs. The common herring appears annually on the coasts of north-western Europe, in mile-long shoals, often so thickly pressed that a spear cast among them would stand upright in the living stream. The author of "Wild Sports of the West" says concerning mackerel fishing on the coast of Ireland, "It was evident that the bay was full of mackerel. In every direction, and as far as the eye could range, gulls and puffins were collected, and, to judge by their activity and clamour, there appeared ample employment for them among the fry beneath. We immediately bore away and a young conger of three feet in length. The cruel creature itself weighed 25 lbs. Eels will also grind with their powerful jaws the strong shells of mollusks, and woe to the crabs that come within their reach. Pilchards feed with voracity on small crustaceous animals, and Mr. Yarrell frequently found their stomachs crammed with thousands of a minute species of shrimp not larger than a flea. The food of the skate consists of any sort of mollusk, annelide, or crustacean that they can catch. So powerful are their jaws and muscles that they are able to crush the strong shell of a crab with the greatest ease. The sea-wolf has six rows of grinders in each jaw, excellently adapted for bruising the crabs, lobsters, scallops, and large whelks, which the animal grinds to pieces and swallows shells and all. In fact, almost all fishes are predacious animals, attacking and destroying indiscriminately all the weaker inhabitants of the waters, such as insects, worms, crustacea, mollusca, and preying with avidity on the smaller members of their own class. There are only a few which live principally on vegetable matter. If the animal prey has a personal objection to be caught and devoured, our fish will sometimes resort to stratagem. The beaked chatodon, a native of the fresh waters of India, catches its prey in a remarkable manner, reminding us of the antlion. When he sees a fly alighting on any of the plants which overhang the shallow water he approaches with the utmost caution, coming as perpendicularly as possible under the object of his meditated attack. Then placing himself in an oblique direction, with the mouth and eyes near the surface, he remains a moment immovable, taking his aim like a first-rate rifleman. Having fixed his eyes directly on the insect, he darts at it a drop of water from his tubular snout, but without showing his mouth above the surface, from which only the drop seems to rise, and that with such effect that, though at the distance of four, five, or six feet, it very seldom fails to bring down the prey. We have spoken of the sea-wolf's six rows of grinders. The teeth of fishes vary exceedingly in form, arrangement, and position. The most common shape is that of an elongated cone, either straight or curved. When the conical teeth are small and numerous they are compared to the points of the cards used for carding wool or cotton; and they are sometimes so slender, yet so dense from their numbers, as to resemble the pile of velvet or plush, and often from their very minute size their presence is more readily ascertained by the finger than by the eye. Some fishes have flat teeth with a cutting edge placed in the front of the jaws; others have them rounded or oval, they are then most frequently planted in rows, and adapted to bruise or crush the food. The teeth in the shark family are most formidable weapons, remarkably sharp, hard, and cutting, and in some of the larger species of such size as to ensure the death of any creature so unlucky as to come within their grasp. In specimens of the common pike of from twenty to thirty pounds' weight the teeth are as large as those of a cat, and the whole of the roof of the mouth, the tongue, and arches of the gills are so thickly set that when every circumstance is considered they are more amply provided for than any other fish. The skin of fishes is almost always protected by a covering of scales, though sometimes it is nearly bare. The scales are sometimes of a horny, and sometimes of a bony texture; we may compare them to our nails, but they contain a much larger quantity of chalky matter. Sometimes they are placed so close that one scale lies over the other like the tiles upon the roof of a house, sometimes fitted together exactly by their edges, and sometimes scattered irregularly over the surface the skin. Occasionally these scales have the appearance of coarse grains, but the most ordinary form is the thin horny scale, such as we meet with upon most of the common eatable fish. The colours with which these animals are adorned astonish us by their variety and splendour. Even in many European species, such as the wrasses of our own waters, the colours are rich and vivid; but it is among the inhabitants of the tropical seas that they attain their most gorgeous magnificence. The lovely tints so lavishly strewed under our feet by Flora, the sparkling plumage and gemlike brilliancy of tropical birds, may excite our admiration; but all the colours of the rainbow combine to decorate the raiment of the tropical fishes. The gaudiest fishes live among the coral reefs. In the tepid waters where the zoophytes build their submarine palaces, we find the brilliant Chetodons, the gorgeous Balsitinæ, and the azure Glyphysodons, gliding from coral branch to coral branch. These tints are due to the presence of fatty matters in the skin; but the beautiful metallic hues displayed by so many of them are produced by numerous microscopic plates, apparently of a horny nature, which are distributed over the surface. A marvellous thing is, that there appears to be some connection between the local circumstances, and even the passing emotions, of some fishes, and the colours they exhibit. Not that they exactly "blush celestial rosy red, love's proper hue," but, as with the chamelion, the varying circulation of the blood in the minute capillary vessels occasions new colours, "the last still loveliest, till-'tis gone, and all is grey." It was this modification which in ancient times so greatly excited admiration at the beauteous versatile tints of the dying (misnamed) dolphin of the Mediterranean-the Coryphaena hippurus; and which in later days drew forth the remarks of Mr. Borlasse, the learned author of the "Natural History of Cornwall." The coloured streaks of the mackerel, he observes, are justly admired when the fish is dead; but they are greatly superior in beauty when it is alive. When first caught its colours are strong and lively; the streaks on the back are of a full dark-blue green, the ground being willow-green; but as the fish grows fainter, the streaks, losing their strength, grow paler, and the blue goes off. Put the fish again into a pail of sea-water, it will begin to move, and as it revives, the colours renew their lustre; take it out of the water, and the colours faint and fade away as before. Place the stickleback in a white pasin and the fine vermilion colour of the beast almost disappears; on transferring the animal to a black glazed jar the vivid colours are as speedily recovered. The sudden change is so striking that doubts of the identity of the animals might reasonably be entertained by one who witnessed the results without being aware of the circumstances which led to them. Pike in muddy ponds have a muddy colour, while those in a clear stream, with a gravelly bottom, are beautifully speckled and mottled. The effect of passion on the colour of the skin of the genus Gasterosteus is remarkable; and in one specimen under the influence of terror (at least so the observer thought) the dark olive, with golden sides, changed to pale, for eighteen hours, when it suddenly regained its former tints. The resemblance between the colours of flat fish (such as plaice) to those of the ground they repose upon, is so admirably ordered as to claim both attention and admiration. The upper surface, or that which is exposed to view, and to the action of the light, |